NEW CASTLE —
I like to dedicate two days each year for going back to my hard labor days.
On Valentine’s Day and Mother’s Day, I put on my old Weingartner shirt and deliver flowers for them.
It's a tough job, but somebody's got to do it.
I am, what they define in the florist business, a driver.
The driver is responsible for knowing every street in town and all the townships.
He is a highly trained individual, ready to handle any deliveries, plus countless calls from the boss wanting to know when you will be back.
For those drivers who have bad knees and can't make it up the steps to the house anymore, there is an assistant that goes with him called a runner.
My job is to drive up to the house, and the runner's job is to take the flowers to the door.
I normally don't see the ladies who gets the flowers. I am way too busy figuring out the directions to our next stop.
With only a few minor problems, we finally came to our last delivery.
It was a home where the lady also had a day care.
It was a beautiful place with a large picture window looking out on the driveway.
All the little kids and the two Shih-Tzu dogs were all wide-eyed, staring out at us.
Louann, my fine assistant, took the flowers to the door and announced who they were for.
To her surprise, it wasn't the adult who got the flowers, but one of the little girls in the day care.
Had I known that was going to happen, I would have looked at the card to see who sent them.
I didn't, but little red-haired Johnny standing back in the corner looked a little guilty.
It was the Hallmark moment of the day.
Well, I guess I can now hang my shirt back up until Mother's Day.
I really need the rest.
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About Gary Church: Gary is a columnist and contributing writer for The News. He’ll share his thoughts on this blog each Tuesday and Friday.
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